


One Other

by 823freckles



Series: Bleed to Love You [24]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, I don't want to spoil my chapter soooo, just read it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-14
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-24 17:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1613696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/823freckles/pseuds/823freckles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alana contemplates her realization that Hannibal is a cannibalistic serial killer.</p><p>Day 26 of 30 Days of Hannibloom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Other

**Author's Note:**

> It’s strange to me that some of my favorite chapters, like the last one, end up being some of my least popular. Then again, I can’t help but love all of my babies…I mean, chapters! Hope you like this little one!

Hannibal’s arms were wrapped around her possessively. She lay in his arms, listening to the unwavering beat of his heart and the steady inhale and exhale of his breath as he slept. Her mind vacillated between loving Hannibal, the refined, caring, brilliant doctor, and fearing Hannibal, the cold, clever, cannibalistic serial killer. She’d been making love to her husband when she finally realized what he was; all the pieces finally came together to tell her that he was a monster inside. 

She’d gotten up after intercourse and finished preparing dinner for her and Hannibal. They’d eaten dinner while discussing their days, like any other evening. She hoped that she played her part well: the part of clueless, loving wife. Alana left out her knowledge of the newest Ripper case, and Hannibal didn’t bring up if Jack ended up calling him to consult either. Alana hadn’t believed many secrets were kept between her and her husband, but now she knew that he’d kept the greatest secret of all from her; he’d kept the secret of who he really was from her.

At one point, Alana had come to the conclusion that she would still love Hannibal even if he was the Chesapeake Ripper. Indeed, she knew that she did still love him even with the knowledge of the monster he was. Nothing could take away the tender, loving moments she’d had with him. Perhaps she was his longest con yet, simply the queen on his chess board, protected yet able to be sacrificed if necessary for the king’s protection. But still, she thought about his sweet kisses, his gentle caresses. She thought about him patiently educating her, from their days as formal teacher and student to him teaching her how to cook new dishes or play the theremin. She thought about the way he called her darling, his numylėtinė, when he was inside of her. If he’d played her like one of her instruments, he’d played her well, because she loved him, loved him, loved him.

But she feared for her safety. And, she thought with a sigh, the safety of one other.

She’d suspected for a week. Could her whole life change in a week? Who was she kidding: her whole life could change in an instant. She was not simply fearful, she was terrified now. She’d been excited, ecstatic, when she bought the pregnancy test two days previous. She’d kept it tucked in her purse, waiting for the right moment to bring up the possibility that she might be pregnant to Hannibal.

She’d pictured his reaction. A flash of fear would cross his face, then joy. He’d ask, incredulously, “I’m going to be a tėtis?”

She knew her imagination was skewed; there was no way Hannibal would react as she’d pictured, but she hoped he’d eventually be happy, willing to share in her joy and excitement. Events were unfolding exactly as she could have hoped; she had her beloved husband and now, she might be expecting a child. Everything was perfect.

Except for that small snag that her husband was a murderer. 

She waited for Hannibal to turn away from her in his sleep. When he did, she carefully exited the bed and tiptoed across the room, sidestepping Applesauce, who looked up at her, then lowered her head and fell back asleep. She paused at the door. Hannibal’s breathing was still steady and even. She left the room to walk downstairs and grab the pregnancy test from her purse.

She did not see his eyes open as he lay in bed, since he was turned away from her, his narrowed eyes reflecting points of light in the darkness as he listened to his wife creep away from him.

She took the test in the downstairs bathroom, then wrapped it in tissues and tucked it back in the bottom of her purse, rather than the trash, where Hannibal might find it. 

Then she climbed the stairs back to her bedroom and delicately crawled back into bed.

Her last thought before she fell asleep was, “I have to leave him. Tomorrow, I will run from him. There’s not just me to protect anymore. There’s one other.” 

Tears flooded her eyes, dripping onto her pillow, as she fell into a restless sleep.

\--

Hannibal could smell her tears drying on the pillow. Alana tossed from side to side in her sleep. 

She knew. And he knew she knew.

Though it had been years since he cried, one solitary tear slipped unbidden down Hannibal Lecter’s cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> If you hate me for this, I’m sorry, but you know, pregnant Alana Bloom is my _thing_. What do you think?


End file.
